


What shall be

by raventree



Series: Necessity [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, HC Bingo, Panic Attacks, Pie, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Recovery, comfort food/item, giving Captain America homework, psyhic connection, the good drugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2014-08-28
Packaged: 2018-02-14 21:16:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2203365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raventree/pseuds/raventree





	What shall be

His dreams are fractured things, fire and ice and a figure made of sunlight wrapping itself around him till he can’t tell where he ends and she begins. He wakes, briefly, to an ache in his chest and a sleeping Darcy Lewis, pressed against his side on the thin hospital bed. It’s the best thing he’s ever woken up to in a hospital.

“So apparently, Captain America hates apple pie.” It takes him a moment to realise he’s not dreaming. “I asked, cause Stark wanted to get everyone’s favourite as some kind of bonding through food exercise and apparently, it’s apricot. Not even peach. Who knew, right? The Star Spangled Man does not live up to propagandist expectations.” The bed dipped and a reassuring warmth settled close to his hip.  
“Agent Hill told me yours is mulberry.”

“Hill asked me to help bring Captain Rogers up to date.” Darcy’s voice came again, from somewhere near his feet. “Her version of light duties, I guess. The helicarrier's fiction librarian is helping me put together a few reference lists, books, tv shows, some movies and music. Mostly classics, bestsellers, top ten stuff people are still enjoying.” Her tone became pleased. “I get to give Captain America homework.”

Darcy was asleep again, curled in to his side, one arm holding him close, like he was some over-sized teddy bear. Someone had tucked a blanket around her and set her glasses on the bedside table. The hum of the helicarriers engines is gone, but there is still the semi-familiar haze of painkillers. He sinks in to their shared warmth and lets sleep reclaim him.

She's gone. He knows this instinctively, like knowing the sky is blue and water is wet. He forces his eyes open, squinting in the sunlight. The room is large and bright, floor to ceiling windows covered by gauzy, ineffectual curtains. There is still no Darcy. His heart pounds in his chest, breath burning in his lungs. She is gone and he is alone. The door slams open and a small, warm hand takes his. The tightness eases and he smiles up at her worried face, seeing her smile back as the room goes dark.

It's easier to open his eyes this time. Darcy is a bright presence on the edge of his awareness. Physically, she's sitting against the headboard, book in hand, legs stretched out beside him. Music is playing, it's familiar, but not something he could name. Darcy's foot taps along with the rhythm. Barton slouches in a chair next to the bed, staring at his phone. Stark's voice carries from somewhere nearby. Phil closes his eyes, not yet ready to rejoin the world.

Phil dreams of reaching hands and bright threads and a woman made of sunlight and wakes to Darcy Lewis.  
"Hi..." His voice is rough from disuse, but she smiles at the sound of it.  
"Son of Coul."  
"Agent. “  
“So, good news, you're not dead."  
"I noticed. What happened?"  
"Kind of a long story. Gonna stay awake for it?"  
"I thinks so."


End file.
